


TFWCLL- The First Wives Club of Lex Luthor

by Aurora Cee (SC182)



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M, Fix-It, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SC182/pseuds/Aurora%20Cee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had each been first at something when it came to Lex Luthor, but that didn't necessarily mean they'd have a place later on. </p><p>Re-posted work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	TFWCLL- The First Wives Club of Lex Luthor

**Author's Note:**

> Re-posted work. Originally written in 2007.  
> Disclaimer: The characters are not mine herein. They belong to DC Comics, the WB/CW, Millar and Gough. 
> 
> Banner by danceswithgary.  
> [](http://s37.photobucket.com/user/supercaptain182/media/0005gsx9.jpg.html)

They meet every Thursday in a small bistro tucked away in one of the slightly less shady sectors of Gotham, because neither of them would be stupid enough to step foot in Metropolis. For any of them that misstep would be like signing one’s death warrant, a thing that none of them was eager to do.

 

Two were seated at a table tucked into a niche subtly placed off to the side. Each discreetly ignoring the interested looks being sent their way with faux indifference. The women lapped up the attention like wildflowers in spring, seeming to grow more radiant with increased attention. Often eyes skimmed over the pair easily enough mistaking them as sisters because of their sharp, refined and dark features, and easy grace, allowing their meetings to remain undisturbed. 

 

 

“Is she actually coming this time or have we set ourselves up for... underwhelming disappointment?” Hissed the woman draped in a red micro-dress at the eastern end of the table. 

 

The other, a vision in white, turned to her, a small smirk lifting the corners of her red bow-shaped lips.“You never had much patience, did you? No wonder Lex--” The dig was paused by a wave of her hand, though she resumed speaking by changing the subject. “The invitation has been extended; the ball’s in her court whether she wants to be apart of our little get-together or not.”

 

The woman in red caught sight of their guest and raised a hand to wave the willowy younger woman over to their table. Catching many looks of her own, the younger woman cut through the sea of tables with the precision of a plum laser.

 

The smiles of the waiting two women grew larger.“I guess she’s taken the ball with her as well as her luggage.” The woman in white chimed. "The poor thing doesn't know that she doesn't have to wear her allegiances on her sleeve anymore...literally."

 

They sipped wine as their guest approached, each assessing her various qualities and making superficial deductions. They have a short silent standoff until the younger woman was inclined to have a seat at their table, thereby officially joining them.A pregnant silence followed as a waiter came and went, refilling glasses of wine while staring unabashedly at the trio of stunning women.

 

The woman in white turned to their guest. “It’s wonderful that you could join us, Lana.” She said, taking Lana's hand between hers.

 

Lana looked at the pair with hardened eyes and pulled away quickly. “I don’t know what this is about--”

 

The woman in red cut her off. “Sure, you do, sweetheart. You’re just like us.” She smiled boldly with bright red lips, vamping her into a creature of beauty and deadly purpose.

 

“I don’t see how.” Lana said uncomfortably, all too suddenly feeling like a ball of string between two very large cats.

 

“I guess it’s time for introductions to be made.” The woman in white said. “This-” she pointed to her partner. “--is Alison--”

 

“Desiree.”  The woman, formerly known as Alison, corrected immediately.  “Desiree Atkins. For a time, I was also Desiree Luthor. The same can be said for her," Desiree gestured at her companion, "--as well, Dr. Helen Bryce-Luthor, at your service.”

 

Lana gazed at them curiously. “I thought you two were dead.”

 

The pair laughed. Helen’s long fingers curled around the stem of her glass, and she held it to her painted mouth. The color of the wine was deeper, more solid than the starkness of her lipstick. Like blood. “Not hardly, though Lex did try.” She sipped. “He tried so very, very hard.”

  
So Lana sat there, sitting, staring at them unabashedly with big brown eyes, feeling like she was a part of some game that she never wanted in on. Or maybe _out of_ was what she really meant. They smiled at her with those ultra secure grins, exposing more glossy white teeth than necessary and Lana felt surrounded, as if stuck within the cavernous maw of circling sharks. That was what Lex had seen in them after all, right?

 

It was not for comfort that Lana found herself sinking deeper into the warm leather behind her. “Why am I here?”

 

Desiree gazed at her. Dark eyes weighing her with predatory appreciation. “It only seemed fair to invite you after the news.” She looked to Helen. “Have a little support after your tumble from the penthouse.”

 

Lana fumed suddenly, finding the impetuousness of the older beauties infuriating. “How dare you presume you know anything about me or Lex?”

 

Helen turned to Lana. Her chocolate eyes wide and honest, fingers still absently petting the contours of the glass. “He’s—Lex is happy now. Something none of us--” Lana flinched, feeling the sting of insult. "--were capable of accomplishing."

 

“Lex _was_ happy with me.” Lana parried. Her voice gaining some of the edge that she’d only managed to discover during her time with Lex. Strength was like money when with him: the longer one was surrounded by him, the more one gained. Lana would never be poor again in any respect.

 

Helen and Desiree looked to each other. Desiree barely managed to hide her amused smile beneath a hand. Helen collected herself first and turned back to Lana, smile gone leaving only a sharp and tight smirk. “If that were correct, then you’d still be living in the penthouse, wouldn't you? Instead you're here with us.”

 

Desiree shook her head patronizingly and finally deigned to emit a subtle, less than ladylike snort. “Princess, whatever gets you through the day. I'll toast to it.”

 

A waiter was signaled, and Lana held her tongue as their glasses were refilled with wine, expensive no doubt, and very potent.  Agonizing seconds passed until the server went on his leisurely way. Lana swirled her wine. “I don’t have to tell myself anything, and I especially don’t have to listen to you, a washed up doctor or her, a psycho meteor freak.”

 

 A heavy silence pervaded. One, two, three seconds passed in the still quiet until Desiree’s well manicured hand slammed on the table and she was lunging for Lana, her white tipped nails eager to dig into the honey toned flesh of Lana’s throat. The strong bar of Helen’s forearm across her waist stopped Lana's neck from losing its flawless appearance.

 

Helen cocked her sharp brow. All teasing and joking nuance drained from her face and voice. “I could drop my arm—just let her finish leaping across the table to rip you a new one, but-” she paused, giving a stern look to Desiree, before casting a slow sweep across the sparsely filled establishment. “But--” She emphasized with flashing eyes, “I’ve learned a lot from my time abroad and the one thing I realized is that you need allies no matter what. You more so now than ever.”

 

Lana swallowed thickly. It was hard trying not to be afraid, because both of these women were dangerous. One could make anyone do her bidding—Lex included, the other sent him on a water plunge into the ocean.  She was tougher now, but not tough enough to survive the machinations of these two.

 

Allies, yeah. They could be allies. Better than enemies, Lana thought.

 

“I’m listening.” She said almost quietly.  Helen waited, watched Lana speculatively before finally dropping her arm. “Come on Desi, sit.” She appraised Lana again, her eyes reassessing Lana after that little display of backbone. “I should have known. Lex likes his women fiery.”

 

“Kittie has claws, watch out or you might get scratched.” Desiree spat. “Remember we’re doing you a favor…after all, with the reporters and photographers hounding you and everyone around you whispering, isn’t it nice to know there are two other people in the world that understand your plight?”

 

Helen nodded. “Well said, Desiree. Surprisingly, well said.”

 

Lana sipped her wine. She reeled in her control and willed her hands not to shake. Not out of fear or nerves, just the sheer rightness of Desiree’s statement. “So is this social call about revenge? Bringing Lex down after all this time, sweeping out the closets, hmm?”

 

The older brunettes shook their heads. “Oh no, there will be none of that woman scorned bullshit.” Desiree cackled and snapped her fingers to point punctuate the point. “We’re lucky to still be breathing, not that Lex hasn’t been creative in his attempts to exact revenge.” Her lips popped around the last word, like she was describing some possibly erotic act.

 

Helen stopped her from proceeding. “This isn’t about Lex. This is about the things that tie us together. Just look at us, we could be sisters. In each of us, Lex found the same thing, just a little extra each time.” Helen’s smoldering gaze landed on Desiree.

 

“In Desiree, he found beauty and skill. Someone who’d caught the hunter that wasn’t aware of the hunt.” The compliment left her smiling. Powdered cheeks full of rosy natural color shimmered beneath the dusky lighting. “Lex found beauty and brains in me and someone with enough cunning to match him any day of the week. You, Lana,” The former doctor shook her head with a genial smile firmly in place. “You are beautiful and innocent, so sweet and he could mold you into an ideal. His perfect woman or just another monster of his own creation that was just a placeholder.”

 

Lana knew who that ideal was. Her stomach clenched with pangs of anger and hurt.

“I don’t think it was that easy. Pretty and nice are a dime a dozen.” Desiree debated. “What made you special? What caused Lex to finally ditch the knight in warm flannel?”

 

Lana had no obligation to say anything to these two. They were her contemporaries yes, former wives of the Lex Luthor. Lovers of a man so intense and powerful, his absence in her life left her cold and diminished. Nothing seemed as it was before, bright, never-ending, happy. Now, she had the miserable memory of two years in Smallville, a wedding of pure fantasy and the final days of her crumbling marriage. And the knowledge that what came after was all her fault.

 

“I made him go after what he really wanted and what Lex found was that he didn’t need me. Once he had unraveled the mystery he'd always been chasing,” Lex spoke and Helen sighed, “--he had what he always wanted.”

 

Helen smiled softly. She poured more wine steadily. “I hope he’s happy. They seem happy now. If it doesn’t work out, there’s always room for one more. He’ll be like the brother than none of us had, and all us can be jealous of.”

 

The noise started slowly until it grew to a riot of laughter. All three finding it too hard to stifle their mounting chuckles. Helen raised her glass, holding her chest with the other hand until her breath slowed. “To Lex Luthor and Clark Kent: May their happiness be long and undisturbed.”

 

Three glasses clicked softly. Like the cheery sound of their earlier laughter, the three former wives of Lex Luthor toasted their former husband and silently hoped their enemy would have a seat at their table.


End file.
